


Pizza Boy Gang Bang

by asiriuswriter, srk1o3



Category: Gay Boys (in general), Pizza Boy Soap Opera, Pizza Boys - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Multi, Shameless Smut, Smut, angry pizza boy top meets nervous pizza boy bottom, but also an intense love story trust us, crack - kind of, dont underestimate how gay your local pizza boys are, gigi's pizza, gigi's pizzaria, kinky pizza boys do it hard, local pizza restaurants are KINKY AS HELL, piZZA BOY FLUFF, pizza boy gang bang, sexy pizza boy fun, this is prob gonna be one of those long gay pizza boy love stories, two pizza boys madly in love, unexpected pizza boy loving, unrequited pizza, we ship it hard, when you both love and hate the guy you work with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2018-11-28 07:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11413320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asiriuswriter/pseuds/asiriuswriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/srk1o3/pseuds/srk1o3
Summary: Two kinky pizza boys working together at Gigi's Pizzaria. This is the story of how they found love in a hopeless place.Randy (Tyler Hoechlin) = POV written by Srk1o3Tanner (Aaron Paul) = POV written by Asiriuswriter





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey so ok.. this is a fic that two girls decided to collaborate together on and write ("two girls" being me and my pal, a siriuswriter. this is srk1o3 writing this little intro.) 
> 
> hey look we're just here to have fun. (as always there will be music recs at the end of every part srk1o3 writes.)
> 
> if you decide to read this... well, we both hope you enjoy it. it's certainly something different than our usual styles. hopefully it'll be fun :)
> 
> just some good ol' pizza boy gang bangin fun!! =D
> 
> this first part is written by me, srk1o3.  
> thank you for even clicking on this.  
> hope you're having the best day of your life.
> 
> Pizza Boy 1: Randy -Tyler Hoechlin  
> Pizza Boy 2: Tanner -Aaron Paul  
> Pizza Boy 3: Zachariah -Daniel Radcliffe  
> Bartender 1: Smiley Tim -Owen Wilson  
> Lakis/ GiGi's Boss: Paulie -Tom Sellek  
> "Worker"/ Paulie's Best Friend: Kenny 'don't-do-shit' Robinson -John C. Reilly  
> Pizza Boy 3: Alfredo -Kevin James  
> Pizza Boy 4: Larry Adams -Bruce Willis  
> Pizza Boy 5: "Lil" Samson -Thomas Brodie-Sangster  
> Bartender 2: Bett -Lexa Doig  
> Waitress 1: Jojo -Fc  
> Waitress 2: Melisa -Fc
> 
> Palazzo's Boss/ "The Boss" -Robert Carlyle

**PIZZA BOY GANG BANG**

 

It's been four days since Randy shaved his face. 

What's the fucking _point_? Of _anything_ in life? There is _no point_ to anything in life. 

It feels like he's vigorously brushing his teeth with the force of Attila the Hun's entire army. The bristles of his toothbrush have long since gone flat but he hasn't replaced it yet BECAUSE WHAT IS THE FUCKING POINT? OF ANYTHING IN LIFE?

 

* * *

  

Randy's shift at Gigi's Pizzaria starts at 1:00 PM, so naturally he arrives at 1:06 PM. He's wearing the same exact clothes he wore yesterday (and the day before that), hair disheveled, bags so deeply etched under his eyes they might as well be boxes. 

His manager, smiley Tim throws a glance over his shoulder at the sound of the door opening. He smiles wide. "Hey there ho there Randy, my _man_! Thanks for coming in today!... Oh, _man,_ you look, um- hm. Did you have a late night last night or something?"

"I look like this everyday," Randy grunts as he slips his apron over his faded, off colored clothing.

"True, and I think that's _great,_ I really do, but... well, I guess I just figured you would have dressed up a little more considering today is Tanner's first day back and all-"

"WHAT?" Randy freezes mid tying the back of his apron.

"Yeah! Thank _GOD!_ Heh _,_  he's on the schedule for 2:00 today, but you know Tanner. He'll be here at, like, 1:40," smiley Tim gives a slow chuckle, shoulders wobbling joyfully, "Always on time, that Tanner. We oughta be thankful for guys like that. He really tries."

"Waitwaitwait, I thought you called him _yesterday_?"

"I did."

Randy deadpans with widened eyes. "And he's coming back _today_?"

Smiley Tim stops smiling for a moment, "Tanner was _seriously_  eager to come back, Randy. I think he might've been crying too, but I couldn't really tell on the phone because he was whispering kinda fearfully actually. It was definitely odd. I guess he really hated it at that other pizza joint."

Randy bit his lower lip as he considered smiley Tim's words. It was true that Tanner was more sensitive than most, but it struck him as strange how damn _fast_ this whole thing was happening. It was literally only just yesterday when he'd had his breakdown during the middle of his shift. 

It had gone a little something like this: 

 

> "Stop crying on the pizza, Randy!"
> 
> "Shut the fuck up, Zakariah! You are WAY too competant and you don't even NEED me!"
> 
> "I feel like? That shouldn't be an issue?" Zakariah kept on shrugging his shoulders, holding both arms out with his palms upturned as though unsure of what else to do with them.
> 
> Randy remained hunched over the bare pizza dough, his entire upper body trembled and shook near violently as he sobbed loudly. "You--you don't even... f-flinch when we have multiple orders!!"
> 
> Zakariah blinked his eyes, kept on shrugging his shoulders. "........ wouldn't that make me bad at my job?"
> 
> " _EXACTLY!_ " Without even turning, Randy grabbed a handful of sliced olives and pelted them at Zakariah. "GO AWAY!"
> 
> Zakariah shut his eyes, turning away slightly.
> 
> "Go. Away." Randy whispered harshly.
> 
> "Did you really just throw olives at me-"
> 
> Just then a pizza pan flew Zakariah's way, followed closely by an entirely cooked cheese pizza. Randy did not hesitate. 
> 
> Zakariah's shouts mixed with sharp clatters of metal clanging against the tiled floor. Slipping on olives, Zakariah then tumbled backwards, taking more dishes down with him.  _Clatter, bang, AGH!, Shattershattershatter!_
> 
> "YOU'LL NEVER BE _TANNER_!" Randy cried. 
> 
> "What on God's splendid green earth is goin' on in heresies?" Smiley Tim popped his head into the kitchen. 
> 
> Randy turned to smiley Tim with reddened eyes. "If you don't rehire Tanner -- I QUIT."

 

Smiley Tim bring's Randy back to the present moment when he starts to say, "I mean, given how much of a breakdown you had-"

"Can we not talk about it?" Randy sighs.

Smiley Tim nods a single time. "Right. Of course. I appreciate and understand why you'd feel that way."

Randy nods back, breathing out heavily and rolling his shoulders back. "Just don't - I'm serious - do _not_ tell Tanner."

Smiley Tim makes a face, features scrunching as he shakes his head. "Paulie's word; I won't say a thing."

"Thank you." Randy runs both his hands down his face and then makes way for the kitchen. He only has a few more minutes before Tanner shows up. Nobody knows better than him how early Tanner insists on showing up for his shifts. If he's written on the schedule for 2:00 than he'll probably be here around 1:15PM on the dot. 

Randy catches a glimpse of himself via microwave glass door reflection. His face is dark with stubble, sleep deprivation, and old fashion sadness. He licks at his chapped lips and starts to bite them, chewing away at the dead skin. His nerves are gonna eat him whole if he doesn't get his mind off the upcoming reunion with the one and only: incompetent pizza maker, Tanner. The man who he was _supposed_ to hate- who he _wished_ he hated...

...but how could he hate the only person who ever made me him feel _needed_? 

There was no more denying the unbidden, unfair truth. 

He'd fallen head over heels in love with an incompetent pizza boy named Tanner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tanner has to quit the job from hell to return to a job he'd been fired from eight months ago. He goes from one extreme pizza place to the one he'd always called home, finding solace in the familiar.

"Hey- uh- hey! _Hey_ , Craig?" Tanner held up a single finger to grab Craig's attention. His boss, The Boss, as Craig's name tag indicated, stood alone by the bar, overseeing the construction of Palazzo's hot new locale, as Craig described it. In truth, the amount of business they'd likely receive-- well, Tanner would _not_ be the one to break it to him that his reputation combined with an impossible to get into parking lot would result in more money spent than earned. Palazzo's first locale had _entirely_ and utterly failed just down the road, in a much better location, but _The Boss_ was convinced it was because it had been bought from Paulie- the owner of the best pizza joint in the whole Northeast. It just didn't live up to the expectations of longtime fans. Tanner had slaved away there for a few months before The Boss announced they were moving and now-- now he'd been part of the construction team at the new place and would be **head pizza boy** once it opened but--

**that call.**

_Smiley Tim._

_Paulie._

_~~Carla~~._

_Randy..._

"What the hell d'ya need, T-Bags?" Craig chuckled, rolling his eyes as he mimicked Tanner's mannerisms in an over-the-top fashion, finger lifted quite lamely in the air. A man in a hard helmet laughed nervously- _don't want to piss off The Boss._

"I need to talk to you," Tanner said through gritted teeth.

"Go on, I'm busy, T-Bags. Can't you see?" He couldn't.

"Right- uh- well, I'm sorry but I'm going to--" _C'mon Tanner, just say fucking say it. You can be back at Gigi's_ ** _tomorrow._ ** Fuck, a new life. His old life, really. Being fired and rehired was weird and anxiety-inducing, if he were honest, but anything, _ANYTHING_ would be better than getting his ass literally and metaphorically whooped by The Boss day in and day out. He flinched at the reminder of the open wound healing on his back, torn through thick skin from shoulder blade to left ass cheek.

" _Spit it out,_ fag, don't got all day," The Boss pressed, his fingers wrapping tightly around the whip Tanner hadn't noticed occupying his hand. That was enough to make him swallow pride and get on with it.

"I'm quitting. I got another job. Today was my last day," Tanner said firmly.

"What?" The Boss's eyes bulged and Tanner nodded firmly, trying to channel his inner Carla. His inner _bitch_.

"Yeah, sorry. No, wait. Know what? I'm _not_ sorry. It's _not_ been a pleasure to work here."

He turned on his heel and ignored the whip snapping in his direction as The Boss screamed at the top of his lungs.

* * *

 

"Shit shit shit!" Tanner's bruised foot slammed on the accelerator, flying down Post. "Going to be late!" 

The illuminated time on his dashboard read _1:39pm_ and he was still _at least_ eight minutes away.

Things had been... _different..._ since his last day at Gigi's eight months ago. It was impossible not to mentally reminisce about the past year. Everything had been weird at Gigi's. He hadn't _loved_ the job. It was _stressful_ appeasing longtime, picky customers. Working with Randy had been great, but he'd been a little _too_ into football talk- especially after that Patriots win at the Superbowl- and Tanner had always preferred the Steelers- something about black and yellow uniforms. Randy had a short temper, he'd thought at the time, but that was before... _before_ The Boss. He hadn't realized what he'd had until it was gone.

Tanner shivered, allowing his hand to reach over his shoulder to touch the wound through his black, permanently-covered-in-flour Gigi's shirt he hadn't had the heart to throw out after being fired.

He whipped down Main, his eyes on the prize as he jerked across two lanes of traffic, nearly getting slammed into from oncoming traffic before _almost_ plowing through Sam's Convenient Store as he threw his car into park. Tanner shoved a baseball cap onto his head- Randy always wore baseball caps so Tanner had started to unconsciously- and hurried in.

"Sorry I'm late!" he yelled as he entered the familiar establishment for the first time in eight months as though it were any other day. But if it _were_ any other day, he wouldn't have been late. The clock read 1:50pm and Tanner quickly glanced to the cutout window where a single, hot pizza sat on the ledge, prepared by Randy and-- _who the fuck was that?_

A brunette boy zoomed past the window with a roll of Seran wrap, appearing to struggle in that brief glimpse Tanner managed to catch before Randy's head popped up.

Their eyes met from across the room. Tanner gave him a smile and wave, but Randy just stared. The moment lasted a beat too long before smiley Tim side stepped out from behind the bar and threw his arms up in the air.

"TANNNNERRRR!!! T-T-T-TANNER!" _Wow, it was nice not to be called T-Bags._ Tanner smiled.

"Hey Tim. Been busy filling beer pitchers I see?"

"Yeah, man, thanks man, so glad you're back! Thanks for coming in," smiley Tim extended a hand for Tanner to shake firmly. "How have you been?"

Tanner puffed out his cheeks and shook his head, hand shielding his eyes to block a tear that immediately formed in response to the prompting question. He hadn't realized how _emotional_ he'd felt about-- about _everything_ over the past several months until someone asked. He swallowed tightly and when he looked up again, he smiled. Tim smiled. They just smiled for a moment.

"Right-- well, then. Good to see you! Figured you'll be in back with Randy making pizzas- that's what you're best at, isn't it? Ha!" Smiley Tim smiled. "You can uh- you can tell Zachariah to come to the bar, thanks," Tim clapped Tanner on the shoulder and Tanner winced-  _ouch-_ but nodded, trying to play it off.

"Sure, Tim."

_This was it._

Tanner walked through the aisle, on one side a row of booths, on the other a couple oddly placed refrigerators holding condiments and bottles of soda, straight on through past the bathrooms and into the kitchen.

It was just the same as he remembered. Randy rolling out dough. Flour everywhere. A counter of toppings (the metal buckets didn't look full enough, he noticed, before remembering this wasn't Palazzo's), a cutting board. The oven cooking pizza _perfectly._ The fryalators sizzled, cooking wings, onion rings, french fries.

God, the smell in the air brought him home.

"Hey Randy."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! Thank you for reading this! Hope it gives someone a bit of joy!  
> -asiriuswriter


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randy has a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i am NOT even sorry for the cheesy graphics. every pizza porno needs a little extra cheese on top.  
> i apologize for whatever the hell i just said. im hella tired :) but take this  
> take this and run away, simba, run far far away ...  
> hope you're having a pretty great day

_lost in a thought_

__

_it's 1:15 on the dot when tanner steps into gigi's pizzaria shirtless as hell. casual fit mahagony colored pants hug his hips... randy rips his own shirt off and emerges from the kitchen._

_"hey randy..." tanner sounds completely wrecked, chest heaving as he gasps_

_randy grabs a glass of water off one of the booth tables and (in slow motion) spills it over his head, liquid trickles down his chest, glimmering_

_tanner breathes with his mouth open. he watches, eyes wide_

_randy smiles, smug and in control. he inclines his chin and growls deep. with a thrust of his hips against the air he says, "hey tanner..."_

_tanner can hardly breathe, body shaking with need. "randy... i want you. i have thought about you- so much.  every single night since i've been away. can't control myself anymore."_

_"god, look at you. so beautiful..."_

"Did you just call me beautiful?" Zakariah looks more than a little distraught as he holds the paper towels out for Randy, who just poured dirty dish water all over himself. 

_"take me, take me, randy," tanner tips his head back, body going a bit limp, "crazy about you,"_

_randy rushes forward and wraps his arms around-_

-around Zakariah, grasping him suddenly. He's still lost in his daydream, unaware that he's actually doing dishes in the kitchen with Zakariah as opposed to being shirtless with Tanner in the dining room. 

"Don't worry, I've got you..." Randy announces dramatically, still oblivious to reality; convinced he's holding Tanner.

Zakariah's arms crumple up against Randy's broad chest in the awkward, unexpected embrace, but still he manages to weakly smack the other across his face. It's a pathetic strike against Randy's cheek for sure, but it does snap Randy out of his lucid daydream. All at once Randy releases his hold on Zakariah and glances down unto his soaked apron. "What the hell?"

"YOU. ARE. ACTING. WEIRD." Zakariah howls each syllable out.

Randy frowns as he turns back to the sink to continue washing the dishes. "Wow, sorry- listen. I haven't slept in days. I'm just really tired."

"YOU CALLED ME BEAUTIFUL, BRO!"

Randy's expression turns both incredulous and offended. "So?!!!???! Can't you take a freakin' compliment, dude?"

"Suuuure." Zakariah begins his next task of the day, tugging out a length of saran wrap. Inquisitively, Zakariah squints his eyes at Randy, watching him intently. 

Randy flicks dish water at his face, disrupting his center of gravity in a moment of blindness. He spins, practically doing a dance with far too much saran wrap. All the while, Randy rolls his eyes into oblivion and catches sight of the clock. It's well past 1:15 PM and there's still no sign of Tanner. 

_**Sorry I'm late!** _

Randy turns, lunging for the tiny order window that shows the living room from the kitchen. The second he sees Tanner he questions his memory. The dude looks crazy weird, lankier and stranger than ever. Way skinnier. Randy raises a speculative brow at Tanner's baseball hat. 

He takes a slow breath and ignores the way Zakariah nearly tumbles into the trash can as he struggles to hold four feet's worth of stretched out saran wrap. 

But then Tanner is right there, right in front of him. His shirt is still on and when he speaks he doesn't sound breathless like he has the world's most erotic case of asthma. There's no denying the static chill in the air that tingles right up Randy's core, but Randy remains unaffected as far as the eye can see, so he decides to keep it that way by nodding once and muttering. "Hey man, what's up?"

It's a rhetorical question, meant as nothing more than a mere greeting- same as saying hello. Randy has long since grown accustomed to Tanner's unnecessary answering, and usually he just sighs and rolls his agitation out onto a pizza. Not today.

Today he can't help the way he looks up and awaits Tanner's response. 

"You uh, you look like you lost some weight." Randy's eyes rove over Tanner's body, lingering on the slimness of his hips before slowly reaching his face once more. "Hey, I like your hat..."

"You're just hitting on ALL the employees today, aren't you, Randy?" Zakariah sniggers. 

Randy's face flushes. "No, I-"

"He just told me I was beautiful about five minutes ago." Zakariah finishes, extending his arm out to shake Tanner's hand. "I'm Zakariah of the Hebrew community. Nice to meet you. Randy won't ever shut up about you."

Embarrassed, Randy quickly turns away, ripping open the refrigerator door and scrambling for ingredients. "Will one of you actually make yourself useful and give me a goddamn hand over here!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was brought to you by "stranger than earth" by purity ring  
> -srk1o3


	4. Back in the Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tanner's a changed man-- or is he?

Tanner   **f l i n c h e d.** The sudden, brash tone of Randy- it was so _unfamiliar_ on his tongue, yet so overwhelmingly _routine,_ as though he'd been _expecting_ it, that he jerked instinctively towards the oven, ready to place his hand on the piping hot wires. _It was his punishment. The only way._

"What the hell's he _doing?"_ Zachariah interjected, watching the new, old kid go into a near-hypnotic trance on his way to the oven. Randy took his time turning around, assuming Zachariah meant Tanner's typical panic over the order-list, but what he _saw_ in Tanner's crystal blue eyes, the _look_ of shame and defeat as his outstretched hand reached, without oven mitts, towards the bare stove--

" _Tanner!"_ he reached out and grabbed Tanner's arm. It was skinny. Frail. Noticeable scars bubbled skin near his wrist and their eyes met.

Green. _No._ Hazel. Hazely-green? Greenish-hazel? How had he not noticed them before? The color of Randy's eyes-- it _popped_ beneath the warm overhead lights in the kitchen, accentuated by dark bags carved into sharp cheek bones.

He was _here_ now. At _Gigi's,_ not _Palazzos._ A simple tactile reminder was all he truly needed to fall back to Earth on this bizarre flight far away from reality.

_He was home._

A smile lifted the creases in the corners of his lips so much so that it _actually_ touched his eyes and Tanner glanced down, noticing the rough skin of Randy's hand still grasping his arm. A gentle tug and he released himself from Randy's hold, giving his old ~~friend~~ co-worker a _look,_ brows cocked and lopsided grin persistent on his lips as though asking _what are you doing, goof?_ without actually saying the words.

"The hell was that?" Zachariah popped his head between them, noticing the extended eye contact and all around _bizarre_ behavior from the pair. He didn't exactly _know_ what Tanner used to be like other than the occasional stories floating around Gigi's, but _this,_ this was _not_ what he expected. And _Randy,_ for fuck's sake, calling him beautiful and holding onto him like he was a lover. "You two need a minute or something?"

"N-"

"Yeah," Tanner spoke over Randy for the first time ever. "Well, uh, Tim-- Tim asked to see you, Zachariah. He's at the bar." _Obviously._ They could _see_ him through the window, punching in numbers on the flat screen register that Paulie had splurged on, hoping high-tech gadgets would help keep the place more modern than Lakis ever had been.

"Why?" Zachariah asked, more to himself than the others.

"Don't know, man," Tanner replied, shrugging. He could see Randy beyond Zachariah's form, back towards him as he spread a thin layer of sauce over a small pizza crust.

"Aight. Well. I'd say it was nice meeting you, but that shit was just fucking weird," Zachariah replied, shaking his head as he turned and left the kitchen, leaving Randy and Tanner to their own devices.

Footsteps disappeared into the background noise of chatter, music, and a hockey game, which was strangely playing on a big screen television above the bar, watched by a single patron sipping cheap beer as slowly as possible from a previously frozen glass that now just dripped with melted water. Tanner blinked, shaking his head, and looked over at Randy.

"It's been a while, man," he began. "You been good? How's football?"

_How's football._

_It was the middle of fucking July._

Tanner flinched for the second time in under five minutes and tugged his cap down self-consciously.

"This hat, yeah. Started wearing them," he commented. "Where are the-- _shit, Randy!"_

On the topping bar was a metal rod with hand written orders clipped up for them to easily view as they worked. 

"There are **_four_** orders!"

Familiar panic churned stomach acid and Tanner fell against the bar, resting his hand against a small pile of stray olives. The squish of wet mush immediately caused him to jerk away, assuming the worst.

"Oh- ha. Olives. Just olives. I thought-- never mind. Well. Okay. Uh. So--" he took a deep breath, grabbing one of the receipts, the oldest one, and read it aloud. "Two-- _TWO--_ medium pizzas-- one pepperoni, one half-olive, half mushroom. Okay. Fuck. So-- what's in the oven now? Should I start on this one or--?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GETTING THIS FAR. <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randy's nostalgia forces a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have some cheesy graphics, my friend.  
> i really outdid myself, i know.

Sometimes one simply needed to take a deep breath and turn away -- _kill your darlings_ , as they say.

As pizza boys they got paid to _make pizza_ , not dick around. If there was one thing Randy knew how to do, it was cook a freakin' delicious pizza pie in a matter of minutes. Nothing to it when it came to Paulie's top secret recipe. Not even Randy fully understood the magic of Paulie's tried and true modus operandi. Randy's mind had been blown by the alchemy known to the local folk of Rhode Island as Lakis Pizza ever since day one, all those years ago. Paulie stood by his side and helped him with his very first pie. Randy had been sixteen at the time, eyes wide with wonder as he watched, utterly compelled, the gentle way in which shredded mozzarella danced with marinara. The sauce had been a rich shade of maroon, the richest he'd ever seen. And he'd thought to himself: perhaps the sauce was the key ingredient.   

> In a moment of boldness he asked Paulie, "Is it the sauce?"
> 
> Paulie had flashed grin, a knowing look in his eye, "No, son. It's the personal touch." 

Randy would never forget it; a moment stitched in time. 

 _How's football?_ Tanner's voice brought him back to the present.

Randy turned his head to the side, checking Tanner in his peripheral. "Football? Dude," he fully turned to scrutinize Tanner, "It's the middle of July." There it was again- what _was_ that? Something so clearly off about Tanner, and yet so transparent, as if the boy Randy had come to love had been replaced by another. Was it possible that Tanner had changed _that_ much in less than a year? Granted both their pH levels of normalcy were likely shot so out of balance at that exact moment that Randy chose to dismiss confrontation, and thankfully so, for what came next brought on massive relief.

Four orders was all it took. Four totally simple orders.

And maybe it was the fatigue-induced moment of reminiscence combined with the clear fear of eminent danger in Tanner's tone, but Randy swore- for the first time in half a year- he felt a spark of joy. A certain sweet validation for that breakdown he'd experienced the other day with Zachariah.  _To have this_ , he thought to himself, _makes it all worth it_.

"Relax, dude. It's just four orders. We got more than enough time." But somehow it stings. 

Why does it sting?

"Just relax, no- don't- you don't have to- give it- give me-  _Tanner!!_   Let GO of the orders!" Randy scrambled to gather the four small papers from Tanner's insistent hold. "One at a time, just like the old days." ...once more, it stung. 

It was guilt.

Guilt? _Why?_

And then it hit him. 

"Dude, um... maybe... maybe you should have a seat. Take it easy. I know it gets crazy around here, and, I mean... I can only imagine it was way cooler at Palazzo's." Randy offered as much of a smile as he could, dragging an old plastic chair out from a corner where it was kept out of the way. He slid the chair around and urged Tanner down into it. "How's the owner of that place anyways? I never did get to try their pizza." A dismal sigh escaped him as he glanced down at the crumpled receipts still in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was brought to you by "utopia" by thalles.  
> live slowly, die whenever  
> -srk1o3


	6. Sticks and Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tanner's memories impact his work ability; but maybe opening up is what will help him get through his shifts.

_How's the owner of that place, anyway?_

Irises once the size of a tack shrunk to pinpricks and Tanner's face fell from smile to terror so fast it was hard to process the transition. 

_"COOK!"_  
             "I am tryi--"  
       "TRY. HARDER."

 _Craig's eyes, the color of ink, haloed gold and something so akin to hatred that Tanner felt it in every_  
                    last part of him.   An evil lurked beneath this man's skin.  Perhaps he was possessed.  Messed around  
                    with one too many Ouija boards in his youth. Whatever the fuck it was, Tanner was not about to mess  
                    with it in  any way, shape,  or form.  He hurriedly  scattered a handful of  cheese over  a thin layer  of   
                    tomato    sauce   followed    by   four   handfuls   of   mushrooms   and   four   handfuls   of  peppers.

_"MORE PEPPERS!"_

His ass was in a chair; something he could not actively remember _doing-_ sitting- and when his eyes blinked, Randy's familiar, confused face came into focus. Tanner released a strangled laugh and pushed himself up.

"I can't _sit,_ man! We have _four_ orders!" he insisted, shoving past Randy to get to work. "And uh-- let's not talk about Palazzos. I'm _here_ now. Gotta focus on task at hand-- _which_ one do we get to first, Randy? The two large? I can start. Okay. Alright, I got this. I'll take this order, you start on the next?" He was already measuring out the pre-made dough to roll out a large crust, referring to a sheet Paulie had taped to the wall as a reminder.

_Had it really been that long_ _?_

"Wha--"

"Ra-Ra!"

A familiar voice boomed through the kitchen as the bubbly face of _Alfredo,_ as everyone called him ( _was_ that his real name? Tanner never knew), slid into the kitchen, confidently wearing his New York Yankees cap. It was a cap that caught him a lot of slack from the locals, but it was never enough to get him to remove it.

"Wait-- is that _Tanner_?" Alfredo stepped forward, his stomach jiggling beneath his slightly-too-tight-tee shirt, his arms open to invite Tanner into a hug that he didn't want. Not now. He _couldn't;_ but he did. A forced smile remained on his lips. "You lost some weight, my man. 'Tween you and me," Alfredo's voice dropped to a whisper, "so did I. I know- I _know,_ just a few pounds, but gotta start where you are. Hey uh-- if you have any tips--"

"Alfredo, give the man some space!" Smiley Tim's head popped up in the window, watching as Alfredo nearly suffocated Tanner, who was actually enjoying the comfort more than he imagined he might, but was quickly released. "Need you up front, anyway."

"Sure thing, boss man," Alfredo replied before he gave Randy and Tanner a salute. "Glad you're back."

"Glad to be back," Tanner replied meekly, managing a smile that warranted a _look_ of concern from Alfredo, but the older gentleman was out the door a second later and Tanner was again alone with Randy.

"Look," Randy began. "Just take it easy. Something's off with you-- you don't gotta tell me shit, but take it easy. First day back and all. Here, let me get the dough."

Tanner wanted to fight him on it. Wanted to tell him that _no,_ he was _fine,_ that he could _handle_ this. He'd handled _far worse._ Far more _pressure_ over at Palazzos; it'd given him skin so thick he had to buffer it twice a week, but he kept his mouth closed tight. Randy was trying to help him, here, something he ought to _appreciate,_ and he would have just months ago. But it all felt so different now.

"Okay," Tanner sighed.

* * *

And so it went. For four hours, this was how they worked. In near silence, Randy rolled the dough, applied the sauce. Tanner added the cheese and toppings (unless he got overwhelmed, then Randy just took over) and Randy put the pie in the oven. Tanner removed it, cut it, and pressed the bell to signify when the order was complete.

All non-pizza orders were handled by Randy and Alfredo, the latter of which bounced between kitchen and dining room.

When six rolled around, the mid-afternoon/early dinner rush came to a slow; the weeknight not casting too many dining patrons on the popular pizza joint. Tanner finally found a breath to talk about something _other_ than orders and plans on how to tackle said orders.

"He was shit, Randy," he breathed softly. "Fucking shit. Don't-- don't repeat that." His voice fluctuated with terror, afraid that _The Boss_ could hear him now. Tanner's eyes even shifted, jerking to the door before he caught himself and returned his gaze to Randy.

"I'm _really_ glad to be back, man."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay. I'm glad we've gotten here. Thank you again, for reading. It means more than you know.   
> Feels like this chapter is kind of a bridge to something new? We'll see! I'm excited to find out where this all goes!


	7. Words Will Never Break Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randy loses it.  
> He simply loses it.

Tanner's confession caught Randy off guard. He finished drying off some old cutlery before turning to Tanner, hesitating at the look of anguish coloring the other's features. Randy pulled in a slow breath and assumed what he _hoped_  looked like a concerned expression... but really, all he did was raise both eyebrows.

"I won't repeat it, Tanner. You can trust me." Randy offered a reassuring smile matched with an attentive nod. He even reached out to meaningfully take hold of Tanner's shoulder. "Yeah, it's.. _._ " Randy sighed, cutting himself off. " _Well_. You're back." Tanner's thin shoulder felt delicate under his hand. So delicate. So tempting to just...

Randy kept his smile up as he flexed his fingers _a little too hard_ before releasing his hold with a sharp exhale.

If Tanner flinched under the harsh touch, Randy was too busy trying not to roll his eyes. 

 

* * *

 

Randy stalked through the dining area, dead set shoving the front door open with every last ounce of bitterness and anger currently coursing his veins.

" _HEY!_  Heyheyhey, Ra-Ra?" Called Alfredo from somewhere behind him, "Your apron's on the ground!"

"Must've dropped it," Randy growled out, turning his head as he moved.

"Don't tell me you're gonna start doing that thing again where you rip your apron off, roll it into a ball and slam dunk it onto the floor at the end of all your shifts..." Alfredo replied remorsefully.

With a heavy sigh Randy came to a halt and spinned to face Alfredo. Both of them appeared dejected so Randy sharpened up and when he spoke it was with quite a venomous tone. " _So_ _what_ if I do start doing that, Alfredo? Can you _blame_  me? Did you _see_ how long it took us to complete the orders tonight?" 

Alfredo's face seemed to swell with the sadness of being yelled at. He blinked his eyes a few times and gave a small shrug. "Well, I mean, with Tanner back-"

"DON'T-" Randy snapped, " _Don't_ say his name- _please_..."

"Ra-Ra..." Alfredo whispered, taking a careful step forwards, " _You're_ the one who wanted him re-hired. I mean, c'mon man, you had a breakdown and threatened to quit if we didn't re-hire the kid."

"I was _wrong_."

"You care about him," Alfredo held Randy's hardened gaze as firmly as a soft, easily offended middle aged man could. "You care about Tanner."

" _NO!_ **GOD**. _Honestly, I can't--- I can't_. I can't do this. I was wrong, okay? I admit it. Fire him or I quit." 

Once more Alfredo appeared bruised and softened with hurt in his eyes. "You know we can't do that, Ra-Ra."

Randy sighed, shutting his eyes and slouching very suddenly, as though all the fight left his body. 

Just then Tanner emerged from the kitchen, throwing a salute towards the bar just like he always did at the end of each shift. Randy noted that this time the motion was sullen, sucked dry of its usual enthusiasm. Still, Randy feel _annoyed_.

There were still a few customers around- a couple heads at the bar and two girls giggling inside of a booth- so Randy decided to take this outside. He shot Alfredo a dark look and then stepped forward to grasp at Tanner's arm, dragging him out the front door. _"Randy, don't-"_ he heard Alfredo call out from behind, but Randy ignored the warning.

Once they were outside Randy shoved at Tanner so roughly that Tanner's back rammed into the brick wall. " _I'm_ the reason you're back. It was _me_. I threatened to quit without you." He took a step back, shaking his head, "I _did_ this. It'smy _own_  fault," he said the last bit more to himself than to Tanner. 

"GUYS WHAT'S GOING ON OUT HERE..." Alfredo burst through the front door, head turning from side to side with wide eyes as he aggressively searched for the two boys, "Randy, man, you gotta calm down..." he said once he finally spotted them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uno noche mas by 98 degrees inspired this somehow? i don't even know.


	8. Shell Shocked Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randy's sudden violence catches Tanner off guard; but with someone like Alfredo looking out for them both, there is a chance that things will get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kiddos! Thanks for reading. Alfredo is life!

He had a handful of olives in his left hand and a handful of peppers in his right, ready to sprinkle over the pizza that Randy had just rolled out, spread sauce over, and cheesed when the other turned on a dime and stalked out of the kitchen without a word. Tanner's brows furrowed, distantly concerned, but he was in _concentration_ mode, his mind fully focused on getting those toppings on _just right._ Not _too_ close together, but enough that each bite provided a _burst_ of flavor. ~~Not like Palazzos when every bite was a bite of~~ _ ~~torture~~. _

It was with the assumption that Randy had to take a whizz that Tanner continued on, a feeling of pride and confidence swelling in his belly that he could handle this. He could _do this_ alone. _Maybe,_ maybe Palazzos hadn't been all for nothing. _Maybe,_ just maybe, it thickened his skin so much so that no exfoliation treatment would get _in,_ would tear him down. It was after he made two small, cheese pizzas _by himself,_ set a finished calzone on the window, and rang the bell sixteen times for JoJo that he paused to breathe. His ass resting against the counter as Lil Sampson zoomed in.

"Hey," he said blankly, as though this wasn't the _first time in months_ that he saw Tanner. Tanner inclined his head, giving Little Sampson a grin.

"You seen Randy? He's been gone a while," Tanner said. He pushed away from the counter to poke his head out of the kitchen, but the bathroom door was ajar, the light off.

"Yeah, he's out back with Alfredo," Little Sampson replied.

"Ohh. Well, my shift's about over," Tanner replied.

"Yep, that's why I'm here. The smalls in the oven?" Little Sampson was looking at the receipts.

Tanner nodded. "Yep. Should be caught up. It's good to see you though, Little Sampson."

"Yeah, sure," he replied, turning to pull gloves on in preparation for the next order.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Tanner exited the kitchen, giving everyone a salute and a smile, ready to go home and pop open a cold one with his dad. His first shift back as an official Gigis employee was complete. It had been a short one, but he felt satisfied. Not once did he break down. Not once did he lose his mind. Sure, there had been some hiccups. Busy hours were _always_ stressful, but he left with pride in his step.

When he glanced up, Randy was by the door and their eyes met. Tanner smiled brightly but before he knew what hit him, he was escorted quickly outside, sputtering.

"Wha-- wait--- _Randy!"_

_It was Craig. The Boss. His fists grasping tightly around Tanner's collar, choking him. Hands immediately rose, shielding his face because he knew what was coming. Knew he'd be bruised and bloody within seconds. He was flinching, curling into himself in an attempt to make the area of impact that much smaller._

_All at once his entire body ricocheted off brick and the wind was knocked from his lungs. Tanner released an anguished moan and fell to the ground, sobbing._

_"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_

All at once he was brought back to the here and now to the sound of Alfredo's voice. Tanner was on the ground, arms up by his face in defense. He glanced between Randy and Alfredo, Alfredo and Randy and could not figure out _what_ had just transpired. He scrambled up to his feet and brushed himself off.

"Boys," Alfredo stepped forward, extending his arms as wide as they could go. "Bring it in."

He tugged them both into a bone-gripping hug, forcing Tanner's face to press against his shoulder. He couldn't breathe but he didn't resist. Somehow, _some way,_ this was a comfort he hadn't realized he needed. Randy, too, appeared the be struggling against Alfredo's death grip.

"You two are like the sons I never had," Alfredo whispered. "The sons I never had."

"Fuck--" Randy managed to shove at Alfredo's side, freeing himself with a grunt. "Enough, Alfredo."

"Randy, my friend," he began, his hand wrapping around Randy's shoulder, his bright eyes swelling with tears, but it was too late. Randy had turned away and slammed the door of his oversized, black truck and flipped it into reverse so fast, there was nothing Tanner _or_ Alfredo could do.

Alfredo sighed a long breath.

"Why don't you come back in, Tanner? I'll make you a pizza. Tim'll get you a Bud Light," Alfredo suggested, but Tanner was frozen. Unreceptive. His eyes were distant as they stared in the direction of Randy's disappearing truck. Alfredo merely grabbed his shoulders and tugged him, oh-so-gently, back inside, sitting him in a booth that was furthest away from other guests. Tanner was so still and shell shocked he hadn't noticed the transition from outside to in, from standing to sitting. Before he knew what happened, a pitcher of beer was set on the table and Alfredo slid into the booth across from him.

"It's time you learn a little something about why Tim asked you to come back."

 


	9. New Day, New Attitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randy lines his priorities up.

For Randy, the ride home was more dramatic than it needed to be, but it wasn't his fault Cutting Crew came on his radio. 

 _Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight  
__It must have been something you said  
__I just died in your arms tonight_    
_I should have walked away, I should have walked away_   

The wheel might as well have been Tanner's neck for how tight his grip on it was. Good thing the road was empty because Randy doubted he could've stopped himself from speeding, whizzing through yellow lights and slamming his breaks on the red ones. The song blared on through his bass amplified speakers, mocking and soothing all at once even as the sound of Tanner's anguished moan repeated itself in his mind. Randy swore he hadn't gotten THAT violent, but then again maybe he did. Okay yeah, it got pretty violent, and Randy realized ruefully there really wasn't going to be an easy way to come back from something like that, especially given Alfredo's eye witness account of it all. Yeah... he was probably going to lose his job over this, wasn't he? 

"So _stupid_ -" he gritted out, slamming the wheel beneath the palm of his hand. This was _all_ Tanner's fault. What if no one looked at him the same at work anymore? What if everyone thought he'd punch a hole through their skulls at any moment like some kind of terrible Hulk movie remake. And that was only IF he still had a job to go back to tomorrow. Tanner was probably one of those spoiled little rich kids with a family that gave a damn. Throwing his truck into park in his usual spot outside his complex, Randy came to the conclusion that this little stunt could cost him in rent money. Jobless with an empty resume and not a single fucking reference. Next thing he knew he'd be homeless because of Tanner.

"So Caleb. Do I have anger issues?" He demanded immediately upon entering his apartment.

Caleb, who was relaxing on the couch with his cellphone pressed to his ear, held up his hand in greeting which was literally  _all_ he did in regards to acknowledging Randy.

Randy tilted his head, mouthing 'who's that?'but Caleb wasn't even looking his way. Great. _Great_. Soon he was gonna be out of a roommate too. 

Heaving a sigh, Randy roamed the apartment doing his usual nightly activities - sorting through his mail, washing whatever dishes were left, changing into his basketball shorts, warming up some nacho cheese to have with some chips while he watched ESPN on the couch....

"Hey, can you turn that down, Rand?" Caleb asked with a suddenly fading smile, gesturing to the TV as though Randy's presence sucked the joy right out of him. Randy froze, eyeing Caleb _hard_ before tapping the off button on the TV and trekking back into his bedroom. 

He took a bite of chip and dip and grabbed his own cell phone, scrolling his contacts until he reached Tanner's name. He tapped on the contact and studied the smiling contact photo of his friend, taken on a day when he was wearing that stupid red shirt under his apron. Randy could still see the white knee socks in his head that Tanner also had on that day. How he hated those knee socks. He almost called him but. 

No. _No_.

He scanned his list of contacts some more and tapped on Lauren's name. There'd been a rumor that she liked him and he really didn't know much about her. Anyways, she was on Larry Adams' good side and if there was one thing Randy could use right now it was a good word with the higher ups. 

Ten minutes into the conversation he'd scored himself a date with Lauren. 

 

* * *

"G'morning, Alfredo," Randy nodded at his coworker. 

"HEY, THANKS!"

Randy turned to face Smiley Tim, redirecting his attention.

Smiley Tim ran out from the behind the bar, concerned and panicked. "I heard what _happened_ last night and I was _so_ worried about you both but I didn't get to talk to you so I'm just so thankful you're okay."

"No problem, Tim."

"Great, thanks! Thank you. So I'm thinkin' today should be pretty slow. Not much goin' on. Maybe you and Kenny can run a check on inventory." 

"Wait, that's it?" 

Smiley Tim stared blankly for a moment, confused, "Well, that and the usual stuff? Thanks, Randy."

Randy nodded, turning back to Alfredo, "How am I not fired?" He murmured, shocked. 

Alfredo took a step back, chin inclined as he analyzed Randy. "Fired for what? The way you brutally man handled Tanner last night? Good question, if you ask me."

"Well, I guess I _did_ ask you." Randy mumbled miserably. 

Alfredo's features inevitably softened. "Look, look- don't beat yourself up, kid. What ya did last night? There's no denying that you shouldn't have done it. _But_. Trust me it wasn't just your actions that shook Tanner up. Pretty sure there's something else going on with him."

"What do you mean?" Randy asked.

"Well, I just.. let's just say I had a talk with him last night and... well." Alfredo shut his mouth then, frowning and pulling a knowing expression as he maintained eye contact with Randy.

Randy narrowed his gaze, feeling slight dread in the pit of his stomach. "What do you...-?"

"Hiiii, Randyyyy," Lauren smiled as she came over to him, standing perkily beside Alfredo to greet Randy. 

Alfredo shifted his gaze just a bit, "... _at'sthefastestshe'smovedallday_....."

"Huh?" Both Randy and Lauren seemed to simultaneously mishear Alfredo. 

"Uhh... nothing!" Alfredo clasped his hands together, smiling brightly at them both. "Let's get to work, shall we?" 

"Yeah," Randy nodded, heading back to the kitchen. 

Lauren took a seat at a booth. 


	10. The Next Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tanner wakes up the next day in quite a state. Lil Sampson has plans and wants to help him shake off whatever the hell is going on. Can a football game help mend broken relationships?

Nothing about anything made sense anymore.

What happened at Gigi's, Tanner had told himself the next morning, could not be repeated or spoken of ever again. With any luck, Randy would be all too willing to do the same, to make sure that their work rapport stayed as good as possible; that was, of course, if neither of them had somehow been fired over this stunt. God, did he feel guilty.

Fortunately, he had the day off to regain his bearings and to talk some sense into himself. Randy, the boy he'd long since considered a _close friend_ and, by far, his favorite colleague, had brutalized him and it was all because of some misunderstandings and his own inability to _cope_ with the things he perceived as dangerous. Maybe, just maybe, everything that had happened with Craig, with Palazzo's Pizza had finally made him crack right down the middle, un-repairably damaged.

That evening, Lil Sampson's name flashed across his phone.

 **[4:46PM]:**   Hey! Was going to head to Gigi's to watch the Pats game. Just got off there, but feel like relaxing! Wanna join?

Tanner had always been absolutely terrible at creating excuses and found himself staring blankly at his phone, his lips parted. From behind him, his father approached with a careful hand against his son's shoulder.

"Son, what's going on? You've been sitting in that dang position for hours. You really should get out."

_Get. Out._

Tanner unlocked his phone and opened up Lil Sampson's text before he could stop himself. 

**[4:49PM]:** Get out.

Hopefully that would be enough.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Tanner was walking into Gigi's with Lil Sampson, and two of Lil Sampson's friends who frequented the pizza place. He couldn't keep them straight- Marcus and Dave. Dave and Marcus. They both looked about thirteen, but had fake IDs and were convinced Lauren wouldn't even check them, anyway. 

They were right. Lauren, after twenty-five minutes of looking over the familiar menus between talking and catching the game, had come over to take their order.

"You want-- Bud Light or---?"

"Uh- yeah," Dave or Marcus replied. "Whatever, we don't care which."

"Bud Light or Miller Light," Marcus or Dave chimed in. "Whichever."

"Uh- okay," Lauren said. She began slowly walking away before Lil Sampson stopped her.

"Hey, we're ready to order, too."

"Oh-" Lauren hesitated, uncertain if she should take their full order or retrieve the beer _then_ take the order. She decided on the former. All three boys stared at Tanner, whose gaze kept darting between the window where he could not see any sign of Randy but had a clear view of Alfredo, and the game, where the Steelers were in possession of the ball. Behind them, there was avid giggling that made it difficult to concentrate. Tanner glanced over his shoulder to see the frequent customer, Bobby, who was undoubtedly wasted off his fucking ass as usual, harassing two girls that he'd seen at least once a week since he started working there again. Bobby was claiming Eminem was his cousin while one of the girls laughed and the other threw him shade.

"Tanner?" Lauren asked. "Are you ready to order?"

"Wha--? Oh, yeah. Yeah. Uh. Just some teriyaki buffalo bites. I mean--" Tanner cringed, shaking his head as a chorus of giggles erupted again, this time from Lauren in addition to the girls in the booth behind him. "--Boneless bites. Teriyaki boneless bites. A large. And some pepperoni, olive, and sausage pizza, a large. Toppings only on half. The other half without toppings. Just cheese on that half. Cheese on all of it. Half pepperoni, olive, sausage, and cheese, the other half just cheese. Large. And with some garlic on the whole thing." He'd memorized the order but had difficulty vocalizing what it was that they wanted, his attention divided and _entirely_ distracted. On the screen in front of him, number 26 of the Steelers caught the ball and was running through a mountain of Patriot's defense. Tanner shifted to the edge of his seat, his fists clenched as Le'veon Bell managed to escape not one, not two, but three Patriots before being tackled by Pat's number 60, David Andrews just before making third down. Tanner fist pumped and then glanced back at the window.

"Okay, so-- a large teriyaki boneless wings, and a large pizza, half-cheese, half olive, pepperoni, and sausage with garlic?" Lauren double checked.

"Yeah," Lil Sampson said, realizing that Tanner was having one of his incapable moments.

"And the pitcher of Miller or Bud Light," added Dave or Marcus.

"Right. Okay. Be back soon." she said, slowly moving away before stopping. "Do you want the wings first?"

"Whatever is easiest for you guys," Lil Sampson answered.

"Kayyy," Lauren replied before making her way towards the computer screen where she stood for several minutes, tapping in their order.

Lil Sampson sipped his water and turned to Tanner as the game broke to commercial.

"What's going on, bro? Everything okay?" he asked, studying Tanner's nervous body language as the older boy shifted, his eyes darting around almost uncontrollably.

"What? Yeah--Yeah. I mean--" Tanner exhaled, his cheeks puffing out. "--No, not really. Got in a bit've a fight last night, with Randy... Haven't talked to him since. He punched me."

"What the hell?! Really? Alright. Hold on."

Lil Sampson was up and out of the booth before anyone could say another word and Tanner, nervous as to what the hell he was doing, darted after him, towards the back.

Right there, in the kitchen, hovering over the pizza station was Randy. He hadn't moved since Lil Sampson left earlier. Alfredo and Kenny Don't Do Shit Robinson were also back there, Alfredo putting the pizzas in the oven and taking them out, in addition to dipping any fried foods into the oil, while Kenny leaned against a counter, his eyes threatening to shut as his head bobbed, nodding off.

Randy didn't even look up as they came in.

"What the hell's going on? Tanner's acting like he saw a goddamn ghost. I mean, normally this faggot can't sit still, but it's even worse now," Lil Sampson blurted to the kitchen. Alfredo glanced up, his eyes wide and terrified before he stepped forward

"Boys! Good to see you!"

Kenny burped, waking himself, and pushed out of the kitchen, muttering something about cups beneath his breath.

"No-- it's fine, Sam, don't--" Tanner began, trying to cut him off, but it was too late.

Randy was looking dead at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, if you've read this up to this point, I owe you a slice.

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter was brought to you by "Grab the Wall" by Zephyr.  
> thanks for reading.  
> :)


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